


Sorta Hoping That You'd Stay

by jenny_of_oldstones



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1887834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_of_oldstones/pseuds/jenny_of_oldstones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami gets invited to do a shoot for Mako's band, and falls for a certain female bass player.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorta Hoping That You'd Stay

_That ringtone._

Asami slapped the phone off her night stand and slid the screen with her thumb. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew who it was.

Practice @ ten?

Asami blearily typed a "yip" and threw her phone into a canvas chair across the room. A garbage truck rattled the windowpanes.

Once, she would have skipped out of bed and spent an hour picking out an outfit to meet Mako at the door. Now she sat on the toilet for ten minutes, reading the same two pages of _The Goldfinch_ that she'd been on for the past month. She sniffed her armpit and swiped on some deodorant, then dug a red tank top out of her laundry basket with a pair of crinkled jeans. She twisted her hair up and speared it with a pencil.

It was the most she could manage this morning.

A car honked outside her apartment. She tugged on her black cowboy boots and grabbed a pear from the fruit net in the kitchen. Mako reclined in the driver's seat of his jeep, not watching her lock the front door of her apartment and swing her camera bag up her shoulder. He popped the passenger door and pushed it open.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself." Asami's thighs made a sticky noise as she squeezed across the leather seat. Mako waited for her to click her seat belt before he shifted into drive and pulled off from the curb into Sunday morning traffic.

The shuffle on his iPod went to "Maps." Mako clicked through the playlist to Arctic Monkeys. Asami relaxed into the familiar warmth of the passenger seat. The cushion smelled like her hairspray. 

"We're running down our cover list today," he said, downshifting as he turned left onto Fifth Street. "Tahno's going to be there."

Asami twisted the zipper grip on her camera bag between two fingers. She never understood Mako's attitude towards his band's techie, but she'd sensed enough red flags around the guy to listen. 

"We're also breaking in our new bass player. She's a girl," he said, with a quick dart of his eyes, like he'd done something good.

"Okay." She listened through his voice to 'Fluorescent Adolescence.' "I'll probably take a few pictures of you guys while you warm up and book for lunch."

"Cool," he said, disappointed. 

Asami sighed through her nose. She blinked hard against the wind punching her in the face in the windowless, roofless jeep, and wondered why she'd ever enjoyed riding in it.


End file.
